Mishaps
by secretsecrettunnel
Summary: Their first attempts at sexual intimacy were awful. The awkward placement of hands, fumbling caresses and sloppy kisses were part of a long line of sexual mishaps that they would never share with anyone else as long as they lived – if they could help it anyway. Snapshots of our Sweetie's failed sexual exploits.
1. Chapter 1

**The first time he touched her breasts.**

He's nervous, his palms becoming sweaty and his heart beat beginning to thunder. They've kissed before and his hands have skimmed over the skin of her stomach and shoulder when they've become distracted from their Waterbending but Katara's hands are _everywhere_. Her nails skim over the bare skin of his shoulder and then his pectoral as she pulls his bottom lip between her own. Aang tries not to whimper at the sensations and the noise he makes instead isn't quite human.

"It's okay," She gasps out as she rips her lips away from his and breathes heavily. Her eyes are a dark blue as she gazes at him. "We can stop. We don't have to kiss if you don't want to."

"No, I want to. I like it," Aang answers honestly, feeling ridiculous. They spend more time holding hands than not, their sides pressed together whenever they sit and arms slung over shoulders – this should not be this hard. "I like it a lot."

He doesn't wait for her reply as he leans forward again, a trembling hand cupping her jaw and his lips slanting over hers. This is it – he's going to do it, he's going to be bold. Her tongue runs along the seam of his lips and he shudders, a quite groan slipping from his mouth and mingling with her breath as their tongues meet.

Katara's hands move easily to grasp at his shoulders, her thighs tightening around his hips as she settles in his lap again. His hand rests on her waist, the other burying into her hair as he deepens the kiss to impossible levels. He had saved the world at only twelve years old – he panics as he thinks that trying to cop a feel of his girlfriend at fourteen should be easier than defeating the Fire Lord.

She gasps when his fingers tighten at her waist, misreading his sudden fear as something else entirely. Her lips pull away from his, her head thrown back; Aang leans forward again, his mouth suckling at the long line of her throat. This is it – it's now or never. The hand at her waist slides up, over her rib cage where he counts each of the bones, before his fingers feather against the plump underside of her breast.

Katara hums in appreciation, though he's not sure if it's because his kisses have trailed to the sensitive flesh of her collar bone or because he is finally touching her breast. Regardless, the soft moan spurns him on and his hand moves again until he is cupping her full breast beneath his large palm and long fingers. He freezes for a moment, unsure of what he's meant to do next – is he supposed to squeeze, or rub his thumb across the peak? His fingers flex unintentionally and Katara giggles.

"Sorry," she murmurs, mirth still lacing her voice, "that tickles."

"Oh," Aang loosens his grip, a flush of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. He's about to remove his hand from her chest completely when her own warm digits lace with his own and force him to squeeze the flesh again.

"It's okay," She urges, her fingers guiding his. "Keep going."

"Okay," Aang answers, breathless as he feels the heat of her skin radiate through the fine silk of her dress. He sweeps his thumb over the cloth covered peak and he feels it pebble beneath his touch. Groaning, he can't help but sweep his other hand down her spine to rest against the small of her back and push her against his body as he rocks against her unconsciously.

"Oh, Aang..." Her voice is different – not like he's ever heard before. It's low and breathless and it sets him on fire in ways he didn't know were possible. Her hands twine around his neck and she pulls him forward, eagerly pressing her lips against his as he continues his ministrations against her breast and he moves his free hand to grip at her hair at her nape to deepen the kiss.

He feels bold – brave even – the hand slides down over her shoulder, her collarbone and lands to mirror its mate on her other breast. He feels the hitch in her breath and tastes her moan in his mouth as her kiss becomes ferocious.

His finger tips are playing with the fold her dress, itching to slide beneath to feel her skin when the door explodes open and the loudest screech he has ever heard assaults his ear drums. They both freeze, her tongue in his mouth and his hands simultaneously groping at her breast and trying to open her dress.

"Oh my... Spirits what is... my sister! OOGIES!"

…

This is one of three ficlets I have written for this series. The other two will be posted during the week but if you can't wait that long you can find them on my Tumblr where I originally posted them last year - link in my bio.


	2. Chapter 2

**The first time she performed oral sex.**

His stomach muscles quiver as her lips feather over the defined planes. She can tell he's nervous and she doesn't want to admit that she's just as scared.

Not only is this going to be the first time she sees Aang completely naked, but it's going to be the first time she ever uses her mouth in such an intimate way. Katara has used her hand in the past, sliding it into the confines of his trousers and briefs to wrap her fingers around his thick length, but she can tell that wrapping her lips around him is going to a whole different story.

"You don't have to," Aang's voice is soft, but she can see that he's struggling to control himself. His smile is tight and the hand he reaches out to bury in her hair is shaking. She lets out a shaky breath before smiling at him.

"I want to," Katara answers, her fingers working at the laces of his trousers. His hand drops from her scalp and she tosses her hair to spill over one shoulder to keep it out of her way.

The laces are quick work and she pauses, glancing up at Aang through her lashes. He's propped up on his elbows, watching with his brow furrowed and waiting for her next move. She tries to look confident. Taking a deep breath, her chest straining against her bindings, she hooks her fingers into the fabric of his trousers and briefs and pulls both down at the same time. Aang's hips lift from the bed to help her and she can't help but stare when his length is exposed to the cool air of the room.

She has seen his erection before, but never when Aang is in such a vulnerable position. He flops back to lie flat on the bed and she can see the colour rising over his cheeks. An arm bends and he covers his eyes as he kicks his garments from his long legs.

Her fingers trail over his hips bones and follow the sparse line of hair from his belly button to the base of his erection and the groan he stifles races down her spine. She strokes along his length slowly, moving to kneel between his outstretched legs - his skin is impossibly soft against the pounding blood beneath, her grip tight around the warmth and her nervousness melts away as she realises that she truly wants to do this for Aang.

She kisses the head of his erection with no hesitation and her tongue darts out to taste his skin. Katara pulls a hairsbreadth away and sighs, her breath brushing against his skin and she jumps in surprise with his length jerks in her hand.

"This is so embarrassing," Aang's voice is as tight as the bindings around her chest. She glances through her lashes at him as she presses a series of open mouth kisses up his hardness. Her tongue darts out again, lapping at the sticky drops of fluid that had gathered.

"I can stop if you want?" Her lips brush against his skin and his erection jerks again. She doesn't give him a chance to reply as she engulfs him in the wet warmth of her mouth and slides her lips down his length as far as she can.

Her name is a garbled groan, throaty sounding as she works at his erection. She drags her tongue along the underside of his length as her lips slide along in tandem. Aang reaches down and cards his fingers into her hair and tugs it roughly – rougher than he ever has before. She moans, the pressure on her scalp sizzling down her spine to rest below her belly.

He pulls again, this time with a low pitched moan, and Katara releases him from her mouth and looks up questioningly. Her hand is still wrapped around the base of his erection and she feels it pulsing as he climaxes with a low whimpering sound.

"I'm sorry," He pants, both hands coming up to cover his face. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Katara murmurs, wriggling her now sticky hand and glancing at the mess on his stomach. She crawls up his body and wraps her clean hand around him. The sticky warmth spreads across her bare stomach as she holds him close.

"It – you – just felt so good," Aang's voice is muffling beneath his palms and Katara sighs. Her other hand wraps around one of his forearms, smearing his fluids down its length as she pulls his arm to wrap around her. His face burrows into the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry, I tried to warn you. I didn't think it would happen so quickly."

"Honestly, Aang, it's okay," She kisses the parts of his face she can reach – his cheek, his temple, the point of his arrow – before chuckling quietly. "We'll just have to practise."


	3. Chapter 3

**The first time he couldn't get it up.**

He is the first to admit that he's had too much to drink. And he does so. Loudly. Several times to anyone who will listen.

Katara sighs as he grins wolfishly at her, his arm slung over her shoulders as she guides him through the halls of the palace. His steps are sluggish, uneven as the alcohol surges through his veins, and his weight is heavy against her slight frame. She just wants to get him settled into his bed with a big glass of water before he finds a way to truly embarrass himself.

"K'tara."

"What?"

"'Tara."

"What is it?" Katara asks as they abruptly grind to a halt, only a few steps away from Aang's appointed bedroom. He turns to face her, his eyes at half mast as he messily tangles the long lines of his fingers into her hair. She flushes at his heavy gaze as his grey eyes slide from her own stare and focus on her lips instead. "Aang?"

"I wanna kiss you," He murmurs, dragging her face up and forcing her to stand on the tips of her toes. "I wanna kiss your pretty little mouth."

She laughs and her cheeks are still pink as she presses her lips against his for a brief moment. "Come on sweetie – let's get you to bed. You're going to be feeling this tomorrow."

"I'm gonna be feeling you in a minute," His voice is low as his arms sweep her off the ground. She shrieks his name as he stumbles towards his room, somehow managing to get them in and to the bed in one piece.

"I think you're going to be very unwell in the morning," Katara answers. She loops her arms around his neck as he covers her face in messy kisses; she wants to be stern - to tell him to stop messing around and just go to sleep – but she can't help the giggle that escapes her throat.

His hand skims down her side and clutches at her hip. He pulls her body against his own and grunts loudly at the contact as Katara's chest arches and her soft breasts press against the hard planes of Aang's chest. He's so playful and happy that she doesn't have the heart to continue to scold him; instead she moans as his face buries into the sensitive skin of her throat.

She skims the fingers of one hand over his shoulder, dislodging the loose fabric of his wrap as she goes. His skin feels feverish beneath her finger tips as she scraps her nail over his chest, bunching the fabric at his waist and scratching through the rough hair beneath his navel. The noise he makes against her shoulder is muffled and she isn't sure if it's a nonsensical moan or her name.

Katara smiles. She is pleased that she makes him lose himself this way – that she can make him groan out nonsense by simply smoothing her hand along his body. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of his trousers, tugging at the fabric and kissing the side of his head as one of his hands wriggles between them to cup her breast.

"No... wait," Aang's mumble is slurred as he pulls his lips from her pulse point. His eyes are bleary as he glances down between their bodies to where her hand is trying to burrow into his trousers. "Just give me a minute."

"Are you okay?"

Aang squints at her, his eyes narrowing as a frown furrows his brow. Her hand has wriggled beneath his sash, her finger tips tracing over the waistband of his undergarments. She waits for an answer and when none becomes apparent she presses her lips to his jaw, nuzzling against the light sprinkling of stubble as she moves her hand to cup-

His length which is not hard.

"I've drank too much," Aang moans miserably, his weight collapsing on top of her. She heaves with her hands and rolls him to lie beside her as he groans in protest. His words are slurred. "I'm sssorry. You're ssso pretty an' I wan' to make you feel good but..." He waves a hand towards his groin before it flops to the bed with a thump. "I din't even know this could happen."

"It's okay sweetie," She soothes quietly. With a brisk shake she sits up, the simmer in her belly disappearing as quickly as it had flared as Aang's face becomes deathly pale and sweat beads on his brow. "Let's just get you to the bathroom before we have a mess to clean up."


End file.
